Chain of Memories
by SpecialAgentAMB
Summary: My take on Ziva's return to the States and NCIS, and the team's reaction towards her.
1. Physical Return

_A/N: So September 22__nd__ is close right? Right?? Not close enough for me… This is my take on what might happen, but then again, they said that they're gonna surprise everyone within the first two minutes, so who really knows what will really happen…_

_Disclaimer: Teehee, if I owned NCIS, it would suck. It would certainly not be going into its seventh season, and it wouldn't be the most anticipated season premiere this fall. I don't know if that fact is correct, but it certainly is for me!_

~*~

It had only been two months since Ziva left when Trent Kort called. These last two months, however, had felt much longer than the four months they spent apart the year before. Maybe it was because Tony knew, not officially, but had that gut feeling, that Gibbs had been doing his doing everything in his power to get the entire team back together. This time was different. This time, Gibbs left it up to Ziva to find her own way back.

Of course, Gibbs did his damnedest to make sure nobody got placed on their team. The past two months, Team Gibbs had only been operating on three members. Vance tried many times to assign someone to the team and kept urging Gibbs to pick someone, but Gibbs couldn't bring himself to do it. Nobody could replace Ziva.

Nobody could replace Kate either, mind you, but Ziva and Kate were so different, that after the first few initial months, Tony just stopped comparing the two. Both were great agents, even though Ziva was technically an Officer. But really, that was the only comparison.

The real difference was that Kate was forced to leave them. Ziva chose to stay in Israel. She chose to leave NCIS. She chose to leave the family.

When Kort called Gibbs, he was very secretive. He told Gibbs to have his team at the airport at 1am, and include Ducky. The more medical assistance, he said, the better.

Gibbs hung up the phone in his usual manner, but Tony could tell he was completely distracted. He spoke quietly to Tony and McGee, and hushed all of McGee's questions before they could even leave his mouth. He didn't know anything more than they did, at that point. Tony stayed silent as Gibbs pierced him with that fierce stare of his. As McGee moved towards the elevator, the team leader grabbed his arm.

"Don't tell Abby yet. We can't get her hopes up."

McGee stopped and stared at his boss, then nodded in agreement and took his seat again. Ziva's unexpected departure had affected everyone differently, but Abby's reaction had been outwardly the worst. She couldn't understand why her best friend would just leave without saying goodbye, then not contact her or anybody for two months. She rarely played music anymore, and had pictures of Ziva posted around everywhere. She even kept track of the 59 days that passed without her favorite Mossad officer around.

Gibbs looked back at Tony, who looked ready to explode. "It has to be her, Boss."

"I know, Tony."

"Who else could it be? It has to be her."

Gibbs just nodded and returned to his desk. Tony stood in the middle of the bullpen for a few moments longer, then after sharing a hard look with McGee, he too sat back down. He idly stared at his computer until 4pm, when Gibbs told him and McGee to leave.

Many hours later, the team and Ducky made their way to the airport. They waited, not seeing anyone, outside their cars staring at the empty sky. A few minutes later, though it felt like hours, a blinking light appeared in the eastern sky, and slowly grew bigger, until they could see that it was a small plane that was going to land here.

The plane landed and the door opened, but nobody moved away from the car. The two agents and the medical examiner waited awkwardly for Gibbs' signal to start moving.

Kort appeared in the light of the doorway. He was walking down the ramp backwards, carrying something… _someone_, laying in a sheet. As Kort and the other unknown man made it down the ramp, Gibbs and the team began to run over to them. As they approached, they saw a very beaten Ziva, laying unconscious with her face bloody, bruised, and swollen.

"McGee, go bring the car closer!" Gibbs shouted as he looked down at his former officer. McGee ran to the car, and in a manner which would make Ziva proud, spun the car around and sped the short distance, stopping a small distance away from the plane.

"Lay her on the ground for a moment, I need to assess the wounds," Ducky said. Tony pushed the unknown man away from the sheet, the side nearer Ziva's head, and he and Kort gently laid her on the ground, with her head in Tony's lap.

The light from the inside of the private plane eerily illuminated Ziva's beaten features, and Tony had a hard time trying to distinguish shadows from bruises, although he knew they were most likely the latter.

Ducky gently lifted her dirty and torn shirt enough to expose her stomach. McGee gasped in shock, and though Gibbs didn't make a sound, his eyes widened in shock and his face paled. Tony made no sound either, but felt a nauseating sensation in his stomach and had to look away.

From her lower left hip all the way up to her ribcage on her right side, was what once was a large, disgusting gash. Now, however, it had attempted to heal itself, but infection had settled, causing oozing green pus and harsh, yellow bumps to form around it.

"Oh, my," Ducky said quietly. As a man of great experience, he had seen all sorts of cuts, bruises, and damages to the body that would make anyone sick, but this was by far the worst he had seen on a patient still alive. "We need to get her to a hospital immediately. I'm afraid the infection might have spread to a major organ, maybe even the bloodstream. She has a faint pulse, but at least she's alive."

"Ducky, what are her chances of surviving this?" McGee asked, unable to tear his eyes from Ziva's stomach.

Before Ducky could open his mouth to answer, Tony replied instead. "Probie! It's Ziva, she can survive anything." Ducky opened his mouth to answer honestly, that perhaps her chances weren't as great as they hoped. "This is Ziva, Doctor Mallard," Tony said harshly. "If anyone could get through this, it's her."

Ducky nodded in agreement. Ziva had always been unusually strong, due to her Mossad training. Although Ziva's chances of surviving were slim, they were better than anyone else he could ever think of.

"She has been beaten and tortured for a little over a month," Kort said quietly to Gibbs. "She was captured while trying to find the head of a major terrorist organization. I don't know what her father was thinking, sending any agent off to find the head. Always destroy the cronies before you go for the leader. That particular leader still had many followers, especially in the area he sent her to. Gibbs," he said quietly, pulling him away from the others. "I don't think she was meant to survive this mission. I don't think Director David is happy with Ziva, and wanted her to at least die a martyr for her country."

Gibbs stood in shock, though his face barely gave it away. He looked at his team, his _full_ team as far as he was concerned. McGee was standing awkwardly as Ducky slowly pulled Ziva's pants down, checking her legs and hips for more damages. Tony was holding Ziva's hand with one of his, and gently brushing his fingers through her hair with his other hand, only concentrating on Ziva's face during this delicate situation. Gibbs felt his anger surge for Ziva's father, if he could even be called that. No father would ever send his daughter out on a suicide mission. Director David had already lost two children, one to another suicide bomber, and one under his own orders after Ari went rogue. If anything, that should have made him more appreciative to his only child left. Gibbs could never understand the men who threw their families away.

"Jethro, we must go now," Ducky said. "The sooner she gets cleaned up and on an IV, the better."

Together, Tony and Gibbs lifted her into the back seat. Tony sat down and put Ziva's head in his lap, and went back to brushing her hair and holding her hand. Gibbs thought briefly that later, he would have to smack him for daring to break Rule 12, but that could wait. If any two co-workers could make it work, it would be those two.

Gibbs took one last look at Kort, and nodded at him. "I owe you one," he said quietly. Kort only smirked and nodded back, before returning to his plane. Ducky got into the front seat while McGee lifted Ziva's legs gently and placed them on his lap. Gibbs jumped in the driver's seat and sped off to the hospital.


	2. Physical Recovery

_A/N: Thanks everyone sooooo much for the reviews!!! It really means so much to authors when you tell them you like their story :)! Things are pretty stressful right now… I'm packing and heading back to college in a few days, and I just had to say goodbye for the last time to my oldest kitty, Sneakers, who we had to put down. He was fifteen and lived an excellent, long, spoiled life, and I will miss all 28 pounds of him snuggling and trying to eat my food off my plate. I will always remember you when I look at the scars on my fingers, from when you bit them because you thought they were chicken nuggets. I love you and I will miss you. So, in a typical crazy cat lady fashion, this chapter is dedicated to your memory._

_Disclaimer: My birthday came and went, no NCIS. Christmas came and went, still no NCIS. I did get one of those nifty NCIS hats however. It didn't come with a 9mm hole in the top like Ziva's did though…_

Ziva was in a coma for six weeks. Actually, five weeks, six days, and three hours, but Tony rounded up anyway. She had woken up once, when they first got to the hospital. She had moaned quietly, gently squeezing Tony's hand. He had gone back to brushing her hair and gently muttered to her, "Ziva, you're safe. Ziva, you're _home_." Ziva's eyes fluttered open, then shut gently again, muttering 'home' quietly.

For those five weeks, six days, and three hours, Tony stayed by her bedside as much as he could. He went to work in a zombie-like manner, then went straight to the hospital, and stayed there until someone kicked him out. He was usually joined by somebody from NCIS, mostly Abby. She would come and ramble on to Ziva about things she missed at NCIS, the team, even a Brain Matter concert she had gone to. Her voice drowned out Tony's worried thoughts, so he didn't mind when Abby wouldn't be silent for more than five seconds. Silence was scary to Tony.

McGee would stop by about twice a week. At first, he tried to talk like Abby did to Ziva, but he quickly had run out of things to say, bringing an awkward silence into the room. He then would bring books of poems and read them aloud. While Tony would never admit it, McGee had a calming voice, and had a strange knack for being able to read poems beautifully. Sometimes Tony didn't understand the poems, sometimes he didn't even listen to what McGee was saying, but like Abby, he was rarely silent, and Tony appreciated that.

Ducky, like Abby, could talk for hours about his past and experiences. He joyfully recounted the story of how his mother left him on a bus, among other stories the team had already heard numerous times. He talked of his days in medical school. He had always known he wanted to study medicine, but for a long time, didn't know which branch. He traveled all around the world, helping people in different regions and cultures, until he finally settled down back in the States and became NCIS's most beloved medical examiner.

The only silence Tony liked was when Gibbs was around. Gibbs would rarely say anything, except "Hey, Ziver," when he would arrive, and a kiss on the cheek when he would leave. He would sit on Ziva's other side, sometimes holding her hand, sometimes sitting back in his chair and just looking at her. On the days that he would come, he would force Tony to leave with him. Go home, go shower, go shave, go sleep, he would tell Tony.

And Tony would go home, he would shower, he would shave, but rarely would he sleep. Ziva was sleeping enough for the two of them, he thought. Then he would continue his routine. Shower, shave, work, hospital with Ziva, sit home and wait. Shower, shave, work, hospital with Ziva, sit home and wait.

He tried to work out why he felt the need to be with Ziva as often as he was. He could be like the rest of the team members, and visit a few times a week for a few hours. But for whatever reason, the thought of going anywhere else other than the hospital after work made Tony feel nervous, even disgusted with himself.

But why? Tony reasoned that Ziva is… _was_ his partner. Any partner would spend as much time at the hospital, right? And it wasn't like he had anyone at home waiting for him, he thought bitterly. The team was his family. Gibbs, the strict, but loving father. McGee, the awkward little brother that Tony would constantly tease and pick on. Abby, the hyper and fun little sister. Ducky, the caring grandfather that loved to tell stories. And Ziva… the foreign exchange woman staying with the family that everyone loves so much that she just becomes part of them.

His thoughts turned to Kate. If Kate had still been his partner, he would visit her often, but he didn't think as often as he did with Ziva. Kate had a family of her own that would come and visit and spend time with her. So is that why Tony stayed with Ziva as long as he did? Because she had no one else? Her sister had been killed, her _half brother_ had been killed, and from what Trent Kort had told them, her father had tried to get her killed. And he thought his family had issues.

Tony avoided another specific reason as he sat on his couch, a cold bottle of beer in his hand. Ziva had been such a presence in his life for the past four years, and until certain events happened with a certain Israeli undercover Mossad boyfriend, he couldn't imagine his life without her.

For some reason, he always thought things would remain the same forever. He would go on a lot of dates with different pretty girls, and Ziva would laugh over his choices or tell him to grow up and find a real woman. He never thought things could possibly be different than that fantasy until he found the picture of Rivkin on her desk and realized the reality. She wasn't always going to stay single. She might find someone, someone that wasn't him. Maybe the _woman_ he had been looking for was right in front of him all along…

_Buzz… buzz…_

Tony reached for his vibrating phone and read the hospital's number. His eyes widened and his heart quickened as he answered, "Tony DiNozzo."

"Mr. DiNozzo, you are listed as the first contact in case of emergency for Ms. Ziva David." He inwardly cringed at the mispronunciation of her last name. "We wanted to let you know that she has woken up and is in need of a familiar face. We can sedate her until the morning if that is more convenient…"

"No, I'll be there soon."

He quickly called Abby, knowing that she had the capability of getting in touch with everyone else more quickly than he could. He grabbed his keys and headed out to his car, and swore loudly.

His front left tire was flat.

He got out his spare and changed the flat in record time, but when he pulled into the hospital parking lot, he recognized his coworkers' cars. After rushing to Ziva's room, he halted in the doorway and looked at the scene in front of him.

Abby was sitting on Ziva's bed, holding her hand and rambling madly. McGee sat on her other side in a chair, his hands resting on the bed but not actually touching Ziva. Ducky sat on the foot of her bed, holding a bouquet of flowers. Gibbs was standing next to Ducky, and although he wasn't smiling, his eyes were bright. Tony remained in the doorway, looking at Ziva.

She was smiling and looking back and forth to the people surrounding her, laughing as Abby engulfed her in what must have been her tenth hug. She winced in pain slightly as she leaned back down, but Tony was probably the only one who noticed. As she looked around again, she finally noticed Tony, leaning in the doorway. Her smile faded, but joy did not completely leave her face. Tony tried to give her a classic DiNozzo grin, but he couldn't pull the corners of his mouth up enough. Instead, his eyes watered as his mouth twitched, until their moment was interrupted as Abby threw herself into another hug.

~*~

She spent three more weeks in the hospital recovering from her numerous wounds, including a swollen eye and that horrific gash on her stomach. She was extremely frail, so frail that doctors told her that she wouldn't be able to move that well or support herself, let alone walk, for at least a month. But being the remarkable person she was, not to mention sneakily getting Abby or McGee to help her, she taught herself to walk again in little over a week. She surprised the doctors immensely, and though they were reluctant, they allowed her to start physical therapy.

When she was released from the hospital, she moved in with Ducky, promising it would only be temporary, as no one knew if the Director of Mossad knew of her condition, and if he did, what she would have to do next. She was still, after all, Mossad.

Everyone bit their tongue when Ziva mentioned possibly returning to Mossad, except Abby who was elbowed by McGee to shush her. Nobody had the heart to tell her that her own father had sent her on a suicide mission, though Tony knew that she already knew that. He was able to read his partner better than anyone, even Gibbs, and could detect the reluctance in her eyes as she spoke of her father.

She did remarkably well at physical therapy, and Tony changed his routine slightly so that he could be there when she put herself through the strenuous task of teaching herself basic skills, everything from picking objects up to relearning how to run again. He stayed in the doorway, watching her, never speaking, but he knew he was helping more by staying back than he would be beside her, trying to physically help her. Every time she began to tire, to perhaps want to give up, she glanced up at Tony, and that would make her push herself harder. He didn't know if she was feeding off the anger she felt for him, but if it was helping her, he didn't care. Eventually, they would attempt to sort out their situation. Eventually.

~*~

Tony returned home one night from Ziva's physical therapy session, exhausted. Now that he saw Ziva was physically recovering, he was able to sleep a little better than before. He plopped himself down on his couch, another cold beer in hand, and turned on the television, flipping through the channels until he settled on an old John Wayne movie that he had already seen a dozen times. He put his beer down on the table besides him, leaned his head back, and fell asleep.

Hours later, there was a knock at his door. Well, not so much a knock, but a pounding. He glanced at the clock, reading that it was well after midnight. The movie he had been watching before falling asleep had been replaced by a half hour infomercial, and his chilly beer was now warm.

Muttering incoherently, he rose from the couch as the pounding increased. "Alright, alright, I'm coming already. Sheesh," He muttered as he pulled the door open.

While he was not fully surprised to see the figure standing in front of him, he still felt a sense of shock run through his body as he saw Ziva, leaning against the door, looking tired but as beautiful as ever.

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, until he opened his door wider, inviting her in without saying anything. She entered and threw her jacket over his couch while he closed the door again. He turned around to look at her, only to find her staring at him.

Apparently, 'eventually' had turned into 'right now'.


	3. Emotional Recovery

_A/N: Yaaay another chapter! There will be one more chapter after this, and then it's done! I'm soooo hoping to have it done and out before the premiere, but unfortunately I can't promise anything. I just got back to college for two weeks of hardcore training, then I'm really ridiculous and decided to take five major classes, plus two smaller ones (to those of you who seem like that's nothing, in American college, or at least mine and most of those that I know, five courses is a heck of a lot, technically more than the school allows me to take, but I'm cool so they let me take more). Aaaanyway, I gotta give a really big thanks to my official beta, who also happens to be the best mommy in the world. So thanks bunches Mom!!! And of course, to all of those who reviewed, thank you sooo much! You're feedback is awesome, and I'm glad that you guys like the way I write Tony… he gets pretty complicated sometimes._

_Disclaimer: I'm too tired to come up with something creative to say. I don't own NCIS._

They remained frozen in place for what seemed like hours, unable to take their eyes off each other, until Tony couldn't hold her gaze any longer, and dropped his eyes down to the ground. That seemed to give Ziva the courage to say what she needed to.

"You have not said one word to me since I have come back."

Tony looked up at her and gave her a famous DiNozzo grin. "That's just not true Ziva. I've said plenty to you." It wasn't completely a lie. On those rare days where none of the other team members showed up at the hospital to keep him and Ziva company, he would mutter many different things to her. They would range from silly things, like telling her to wake up or he would stick his wet finger in her ear, to far more serious, very un-Tony like things, like how much he missed her and really needed her back in his life.

Ziva nodded. "Fine then. You have not said a single word to me since I have woken up."

Tony stopped grinning, but continued to hold her gaze. "I honestly have no idea where to begin, Ziva. Everything I said in Israel was true. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" she snapped. "Sorry for killing Michael, or sorry for trying to protect me?"

"I will never be sorry for trying to protect you," he said harshly. "I'm sorry for the pain the outcome caused you, and I'm sorry that I didn't see another way to end the struggle with Michael. Looking back, if I had known what would have happened, yeah, I would have done things differently. Maybe then, he wouldn't be dead, and maybe you wouldn't have gone back to Israel, and you wouldn't have been sent on some suicide mission!"

Ziva looked down and stumbled backwards slightly, almost as if she had gotten hit hard in the stomach, and Tony instantly regretted his words. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He moved towards the kitchen, grabbing his warm, unopened beer on this way.

"Where are you going?" Ziva asked as he marched away. She didn't receive an answer, but heard his refrigerator door opening, cans clunking around, and two cans being popped open. He returned into his foyer and handed her a can of cola.

"I figured if you're gonna yell at me, your throat might get dry, and since you deserve to yell at me 'til your heart's content, your throat shouldn't suffer. I figured you're also on pain killers, and you shouldn't mix alcohol and meds, so hence the soda instead of beer." He leaned on the back of his couch and looked up at her expectantly.

Ziva was taken aback. She honestly didn't know what made her come here tonight, but she felt like she just needed to see him. Needed to hear his voice again. She hadn't told anyone, and doubted that she ever would, but whenever she felt her body giving up on her, she kept hearing his voice over and over again, telling her not to keep fighting and stay strong. During the few missions where she was compromised, she would hear her own voice, if not, her father's.

It had greatly surprised her the first time she heard his voice; she thought that he must have been in the room with her. She had raised her tired head and looked around the dimly lit room, but she had been alone. It was then when she began to look at the incidents from his perspective and tucked away her own biased views.

Maybe America had been making her 'soft', as her father once described her, but she liked having people watch her six, not because they had to, but because they wanted to and they cared enough about her to. She had to have her guard up around Michael, and, truth be told, she did not trust him and feel as comfortable as she once did with Tony.

She had thought that Tony had been jealous, and maybe he had been. He had also told her that he would have given up his career for her. She always knew that her father's loyalties were to his country. Michael's loyalties had been towards Mossad. But Tony's loyalties were for _her_. He had been doing what he thought was best to protect her.

"I did not come here to yell at you, Tony," she said, softly. Tony's face went from surprised to relief quickly, and she could hear him sigh happily. "I honestly do not know where to start either, but I think it would be best if we started somewhere, yes?"

Tony grinned, not one of his famous, DiNozzo smiles, but a genuine, happy smile. "Yeah. Yeah it would."

He motioned his arm towards the center of his living room. He followed her in and sat himself down in his original spot, his feet up on his coffee table again, while Ziva chose to curl up on an oversized, comfy arm chair. He noticed her wince as she tucked her legs underneath her, but he diverted his eyes as she glanced up to see if he noticed her pain.

They sat in silence for a few moments, but it was a comfortable silence, and Tony did not mind it. Though they sat far apart, he was happy to feel her presence, and even happier to know that she was not mad at him. They both realized that the relationship they once shared, one that was much closer than friends but never crossed into a romantic stage, had broken down. But enough of that foundation remained where they could at least start rebuilding that friendship again.

He looked up again at her, catching her looking at him. She looked down, shyly, and Tony couldn't help but grin again. This wasn't the old Ziva by any means, but she was acting pretty cute. _Cute,_ he thought to himself, _who else would think a crazy Mossad agent… former Mossad agent, is acting cute. She'd kill you if she found out._

He tried to suppress a chuckle when he realized her neck was bare. He had only seen her with her necklace off once, and that was because they went undercover together. She had never seemed attached to anything in particular, even her religion, but for some reason, he knew that the necklace meant more to her than just a pretty thing around her neck.

Ziva caught him looking at her. "What, Tony?"

"You're not wearing your necklace," he said, his gaze rising to meet her eyes.

Her hand absentmindedly wandered to her neck, feeling for the necklace what was no longer there. "They broke it in Somalia," She muttered. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the chain; the golden Star of David glinting in the low lighting of his living room. "One of the chains broke. I went to one jeweler and he told me it was not worth fixing, that I should just buy a new chain." Her gaze drifted downward, watching the rotating pendant.

"Why don't you?" he asked. She looked back up at him, her face almost appalled. "You don't want a new chain."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "This might sound… silly, childish even, but this necklace," her voice, now filled with emotion, broke off. "This is the last physical object that I have that Tali gave to me. One Hanukah," she gave a watery chuckle. "We bought each other the same necklace. Both of us had loved this necklace, but wanted to give it to the other. So when we opened the same gift…" She laughed again, though tears fell from her eyes. "The chain is never the most important thing of a necklace; all the attention goes to the pendant. But the chain is what holds the pendant up. It's the strength of the whole necklace. And… I do not know," she sighed, leaning back on his chair. "This just seems so stupid, to want to just fix something that is broken…" She trailed off, looking down, not bothering to wipe the tears off her face.

Tony said nothing. After a moment or so, he rose from his chair, ignoring Ziva's tearful, questioning look as he entered his bedroom. He opened a drawer to his bureau, and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He held the familiar object up to the light, and smiled at its beauty. As he walked back into his living room, he saw that Ziva was standing uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to do.

He sat back down on his couch, holding the object in his lap, and patted the open seat next to him. She walked over to him, her footsteps hardly making any sound, and sat down next to him. She sat very stiffly and rigidly. Tony looked up at her and smiled another genuine smile, though this one had a touch of sadness to it. He held out the object to her.

"These," he began, as Ziva idly ran her hand over the beautifully beaded cross, "Were my grandmother's rosary beads." The rosary consisted of beautiful red and clear glass beads, and every so often, what seemed to be a white, freshwater pearl. Ziva traced her hand down the cross.

"Tony, they're beautiful," Ziva said, not looking up.

"They are," he agreed. "I've never been too religious. I don't think I've stepped in a church other than for a wedding or a funeral since I was in elementary school. They're supposed to be used when you pray, but to me, the only thing I think of when I see them is my grandmother."

Ziva remained quiet. Tony really never talked of his family, and she knew from his file that his mother had died when he was young and he did not get along with his father. His file, however, mentioned no other family member. She knew that this must be hard for him to talk about, and that he probably hadn't talked to many other people about this, if he talked to anyone at all. She looked up into his eyes, and that gave him the courage to keep talking.

"She died when I was 17. She really was the only family member I was ever close to. She was the only family member that made me feel loved. I would spend weekends with her sometimes, and every night before she went to bed, I would see her take out her rosary, and say her prayers. The night that she passed, I snuck into her room and took them. The next morning, my cousin Artie, a real jack ass, came and said he wanted them. I lied and said that the funeral home had them, and that she was going to be buried with them."

Tony looked uncomfortable and shifted around nervously. Ziva turned in her seat to face him and handed him the rosary gently. He took it, smiling slightly as he ran his own fingers up and down it. "I couldn't stand to be apart from it, you know? Once I couldn't have my grandmother in my life anymore… it was just like this object represented her, you know?" He turned and faced her, staring deeply into her eyes. "Ziva, what I'm trying to say is, I don't know how you grew up. I don't know how you were raised, or what lessons you were taught. I do know that you hate showing weakness, and maybe back home people would think less of you for being weak.

"You suffered a huge loss when your sister died, and to have something physical to remember her by is not a weakness at all." When Ziva tried to open her mouth to interrupt, he held his hand up to hush her. "No, Ziva, listen to me. You live here now. In America, people have reminders of their lost loved ones everywhere. Do you think Gibbs, Abby, McGee, Ducky, anyone at NCIS would honestly think less of you because you miss your sister?" She put her head down in shame, shaking it as tears ran down from her eyes to her chin, and fell into her lap. "Do you think I think any less of you because I know the truth?"

She let out a quiet sob. "No," she cried, as she opened up emotionally for the first time. Sob after sob came, and she leaned forward to put her head in her hands, but instead was caught by Tony. He pulled her gently closer to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder as she continued to cry. He put his arms around her waist, one handing gently rubbing her back and the other stroking his hair as he had often done while she was in the hospital.

He felt her one arm wrap around his neck while the other rested under her head on his chest. He said nothing, only comforting her by the rhythmic patterns he made by his hands. He knew words wouldn't do anything useful, only make her more upset or angry. He knew she hadn't cried in years; she never lost control like this before. _We all need to once in a while,_ he thought. _She really needed to do this, and I'm glad it was with me._

Her sobbing continued on for a few more minutes, until he finally started to hear her breathing slow to a more normal place, and her cries were replaced with sniffles. She gently pulled back, wiping her eyes and nose.

"Tell you what," Tony started, as he handed her a tissue which she gratefully accepted. "Tomorrow, we'll take an extended lunch break, and I'll take you to _my_ jeweler. He's an old family friend, and I swear he can do miracles with broken jewelry."

Had this been a few months ago, Ziva would have rolled her eyes and told him she could do it on her own. But she knew he was being genuine, and he wanted to help her because he honestly cared about her, not because he wanted to show off or thought she just needed help. So she nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Tony."

He smiled again, and opened up his arms. She leaned back down into him and laid her head on his chest. He put one arm around her, and grabbed her hand with his free one. They sat like that for a few hours, not speaking, but reconnecting again. When the faintest sunlight began to peek through Tony's windows, Ziva rose, Tony close behind her. They shared one more smile, and she left without saying a word. But that smile said more than any words could.

Tony found himself still standing, still smiling, long after she left. He was really looking forward to going to the jeweler's today.


	4. Emotional Return

_A/N: Yaaaay it's done! It's done it's done it's done! I'm sooooo sorry for the delay, and thank you to those who have stuck with this! I'm really happy that I've gotten this done before NCIS premiere (which is in… 6 days! Wooooot!). And one more biiiiig thanks to my beta, who's also my mom, and the source of my inspiration! OK, so no more reading silly authors notes. Go on and read the story! After the disclaimer…_

_Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own. Christmas is soon… so perhaps then. Until December, nothing is mine (except Angelo, whom I made up off of many other characters I know, some real, some fake). _

**~*~**

_Tony found himself still standing, still smiling, long after she left. He was really looking forward to going to the jeweler's today. _

Later in the afternoon, after informing Gibbs they'd be back in two hours (and receiving a curious glance from him), Tony and Ziva headed out of the city and to a smaller, suburban town. Ziva didn't argue when Tony said he'd drive; in fact, she was quite content to gaze out the window. She had never really been outside of DC too much, except for on missions, so it was very relaxing to not have to worry about a target or protecting someone. She smiled as she saw families out in their yards: fathers and sons tossing a ball back and forth, young girls playing with dolls while their mothers supervised, even an older, teenage couple hidden under a large tree, talking quietly with their heads together.

Ziva felt bittersweet. She wondered what it would have been like to grow up in America, where it was not constantly plagued by war and death. She felt a twinge of sadness for a mother she lost too soon, a sister who didn't have to die, a brother turned rogue, and a father who never truly saw her as a daughter. Yet she couldn't say she had a bad life, after all, look at where it brought her today. Perhaps if she hadn't gone through all those difficulties, she wouldn't appreciate the family she found in her co-workers.

Tony turned down a street filled with small, commercial buildings, sprinkled with Italian delis, a few apparel stores, and finally, _Josephina's Fine Jewels_. He parallel parked in front of the store and got out of the car. Ziva followed his lead, looking into the small building to see a tiny old man sitting on a stool, with large magnifying glasses over his eyes.

Tony smiled as he reached Ziva's side, and gently put his arm around her. "Angelo's an old family friend, used to know my grandfather. He's a little hard of hearing, but he has the best damn eye sight and stable hands. I'm sure he'll be able to fix your necklace," he said. Ziva returned his smile.

"Who is Josephina?"

"His wife. They were married for almost 65 years when she passed a few years ago. I had never seen a couple more in love then those two." He pulled open the door for her, and followed her into the jewelers. It was a small space, but very cozy and comforting. Angelo looked up when he heard the chime on the door ring, and when he recognized Tony, a large, crooked grin spread across his face.

"Antonio! My boy! How have you been? How long has it been since I've last seen you?" Angelo came from around the counter and gave Tony a hug. It was a slightly humorous sight to see; Angelo's head barely came up to Tony's shoulder. But Tony returned the hug as best he could, and equal size grin on his face as well.

"Too long, Angelo, way too long," Tony said.

Angelo gave a chuckle as he pulled off his glasses, and looked up at Ziva. "Well, well, who might this _belladonna_ be, Antonio?"

Ziva blushed and looked at her feet, but before she could speak, Tony introduced the two. "Angelo, this is Ziva. We work together; she's my partner."

"Ho, ho, partner you say?" Angelo smirked, and Tony felt his cheeks flush as well. "In any sense, you are a very beautiful lady, Miss Ziva. You are not Italian, but just as beautiful as one, eh, Antonio? Ah, but I am biased! Do you see that woman up there?" He pointed to an old black and white photo of a very beautiful woman looking over her shoulder and giving a small smile to the camera. "That was my wife, Josephina. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, no offense, miss. But she was lovely, inside and out. Blessed me with six children, who have blessed me with thirteen grandchildren, and soon, I will be blessed with a great-grandchild!" He sighed happily, reminiscing over his long, happy life. "But, that is not the point. Have you a service for me, Antonio, or did you stop by to say hello?"

Tony looked at Ziva and nodded. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her broken necklace. "I've had this necklace since I was quite young, and it was given to me by my little sister, who too, has passed. One of the links has broken, and I've been told by other jewelers that it is not worth fixing, that I should just buy a new chain. I know it would be quite difficult and tedious, but…"

"My dear, Miss Ziva, has our dear Antonio told you nothing of me? When it comes to jewelry, I can work miracles. And if I cannot make the miracles happen, I know the few who are better than I who can do anything," He gave father a large, grandfatherly-like grin, and Ziva felt herself believing in him and gave him a grin back. "Now, let me see this necklace."

She handed over the delicate chain with the broken link and the Star of David. He took it gingerly to his lighted desk and put his magnifying goggles back on. He looked carefully at the chain and the link for a few moments, until he leaned back and sighed, contented.

"Miss Ziva, nothing is impossible. This fix, it will be difficult, yes, but never impossible. My dear, why don't you take a look at some of my jewelry? I would like to show something to our Antonio for a moment."

Ziva looked quizzically at Angelo, then at Tony, who shrugged, but nodded and smiled softly as she turned her back to them, looking at the bracelets and rings in the glass cabinet. Angelo beckoned Tony to the back room.

"Angelo, thank you so much for doing this for me… Ziva," Tony said.

"Oh, Antonio, anything for you and your pretty lady friend. I'll fix that up in a few days and give you a call, no charge! Now, I have something for you," He said as he began to rustle through some drawers. "I was cleaning out some old paperwork last week, annoying task it is, and I found… this!" He pulled out a bracelet box. "Your grandfather bought this from my father many, many years ago, but he never gave it to your grandmother. He bought her a beautiful rosary instead. But what's done is done, and this, my dear boy, belongs to you."

Tony opened the box and smiled at the beauty of it. It was small and thin, gold with tiny rubies and diamonds. He didn't know why (or maybe he did), but the first thing he thought of when he saw the bracelet was how beautiful it would look on Ziva's wrist. _Maybe that's were it should belong._

His thoughts were interrupted by Angelo patting him on the back. "She's not Italian, my boy, but I think I'll let this one slide," He said with a wink.

"What are you…"

"Shush, you. Don't play like you don't know. Keep her around," He said, his smile gone but the warmth from his eyes never leaving. "Don't you lose her."

Tony held his gaze. "She's not going anywhere. Not if I can help it," He agreed, realizing what he meant as the words escaped his lips.

"Good, that's my boy." Angelo gave him a fatherly hug again, then they walked back into the front of the store, Tony tucking the bracelet box into his pocket.

"Well, business is all taken care of. Miss Ziva, I know that I am showing myself to be an old man, but would you like to see pictures of my grandchildren?"

~*~

An hour later, Tony and Ziva returned to NCIS with multiple cups of coffee for their teammates. They took their seats and began sorting through their paperwork, finishing up reports that were due, or playing a game of solitaire.

Hours later, Tony leaned back on his chair and stretched, not being able to look at his computer any longer. He looked over at Probie, who was still busily typing away, then to Gibbs, who was squinting over a piece of paper, sipping on his coffee, then finally, to Ziva, who was still working hard, but looked fairly exhausted.

_Tonight,_ he thought. _Tonight, I'll give her the bracelet._ He was suddenly struck with an idea. Taking a blank piece of paper, he scribbled his message on it, crumpled it up, and threw it at Ziva's head. And although she was exhausted and maybe slightly out of practice from all the physical therapy and bed rest she had been forced to do, she still caught with ease, without bothering to look. When she did look up, however, she sent such a glare to Tony that he almost forgot that there was something written on the piece of paper he threw at her.

"Open it," he mouthed. Her expression changed to that of confusion as she started unfolding the paper, then gave a small smile at the message.

_Dinner tonight, pick you up at 7?_

She looked back and nodded. Tony grinned a very DiNozzo like grin, then leaned forward to work, promising himself that he would finish so Gibbs would not keep him late. She, too, grinned as she looked back down on her paperwork, a very un-Ziva like grin. No walls, no hiding emotions, this smile just showed that she was happy.

The fearless team leader watched the interaction between his senior agent and their newest, official agent, and gave a silent chuckle to himself. They were two of the most opposite people on the planet, and they fought like animals constantly. But they each had been through hell, mentally, physically, or both, and they shared some… _link_, that Gibbs had thought had broken after everything with Michael, Mossad, her father…

Maybe they'd break Rule 12. Maybe they'd stay best friends and partners forever. Either way, it was clear to Gibbs that their broken link had been fixed, and whatever choice they made together, well, they'd turn out just fine.


End file.
